


Wait for Me

by mac23



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Astronaut AU, Iwaizumi is a math god, M/M, Mostly Sweet, Mutual Pining, Oiks is an artist, but kind of angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-01-31 13:04:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18591817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mac23/pseuds/mac23
Summary: Oikawa fell in love with the stars as a child but was fiercely let down when he found out how much math is involved just to get anywhere near them. In his stead, Iwaizumi takes on Oikawa's dream and shoots for the stars.





	1. These Old Walls

Regardless of what age he was, Oikawa Tooru had always looked up to the stars in astonishment--- astonishment that such a concept as beautiful as space painted the sky in perpetuity. He always thought that the stars were the only reason he believed that some higher power existed in the first place. It’s truly a magnificent wonder, one he’s always wanted to know more about. The world that expands beyond his own is enigmatic. There were so many ways to imagine and reimagine the purpose of the constellations and the giant clouds of ions that rested out there, expanding and growing. Who else but some sort of god could create something like space?

He always found himself asking: What else may lie out there? Aliens? Other humans?

Well, he may never know because math is a giant cockblock.

The absolute worst piece of human creation to ever exist and it is the only reason he cannot join the love of his life in a space craft somewhere up there. God, how he can’t wait for aliens to find the human race and decimate Earth. At least then, math won’t have to singlehandedly end important dreams for the Oikawa Toorus of the world. ‘Cause let’s be honest: God should have smite us the moment we brought that ugly creature to life and gave it such an ambiguous name like _math._

Even if it were the bane of his existence, he knew one person who seemed to have a knack for it, a disgusting one, he might add. Which, coincidentally, is exactly who he is headed to see while silently wishing for the arrival of aliens.

Iwaizumi has a repulsive talent for anything math and he’s now taking the appropriate courses for his final destination: outer space. Oikawa had to admit, he was happy his friend was good at this because once he gets into a NASA program, he’ll be able to tell Oikawa if they’ve made contact with aliens yet. They’re definitely out there and all he needs is proof, which Iwaizumi will undoubtedly provide him.

“Hey Iwa-chan, what is it this time?”

“Advanced Thermodynamics.”

Oikawa had opened the door to Iwaizumi’s apartment without so much as a knock. Their lively friendship had continued well after high school and now they both attended college in the same area. Oikawa still lived on campus because the dorms of the prestigious art school he was studying at were top of the line. _What’s the point of moving into a dump for twice the price I pay to live like a king?_ he had said. Still, the, albeit short, distance did nothing to burden their friendship.

“Ew, no thanks.”

“Hm,” Iwaizumi hummed as he continued writing without breaking focus.

His apartment was small and quaint, but it was homey. Iwaizumi had a talent for making any place a home, especially when Oikawa’s father walked out on his family. The only person he could turn to was Iwaizumi. In between taking care of his sickly mother and his younger sisters, Oikawa’s best friend was the only person to take care of him. It was hard, but now his sisters live with his aunt and Takeru is their surrogate big brother until Oikawa returns. He was trying to build a life for himself so he could support his family, but art doesn’t pay the bills so well. 

The sturdy wooden table in the middle of the room supported several textbooks, lots of highlighters, and the weight of Iwaizumi’s frustration. Behind the table was the kitchen that for some reason was painted yellow despite the rest of the apartment being painted in a faint lavender. Oikawa always asked Iwaizumi when he was going to repaint and even offered his artistic services, but the latter always declined, claiming he would take care of it himself.

“You know, I can paint your kitchen for you.”

“Hm,” he hummed again, definitely not paying attention.

“Great! I’ll handle it this weekend.”

“Hm,” Iwaizumi offered once more, turning the full page of mathematics work over to continue on the blank side. 

His stern facial expression hadn’t once wavered since Oikawa walked in and it brought a smile to his face. He was handsome this way, all serious and focused, which was pretty much all the time. The art major continued to stare, admiring the stubble adorning Iwaizumi’s sharp jawline. It was only recently that Oikawa really started to take a good look at his childhood best friend. All this was thanks to Oikawa accidentally walking in on Iwaizumi fresh out of the shower. If he thought Iwaizumi was built before, _boy is he jacked now._

For the past few weeks, he couldn’t help himself around his best friend. It was hard not to stare and even harder not to imagine what those strong arms could do with him— _to_ him. Apparently Iwaizumi was hitting the gym much more than he had in high school. It was only three years ago, but damn did it make a difference. Masculinity had really started to set in, replacing any childish features might have left. The change has been gradual, which Oikawa supposed was the reason he hadn’t really noticed until now.

“You’re staring, Oikawa. Do you really want to paint my kitchen that badly?”

If he had looked up, he would have seen the red face of his best friend and fervent nodding to hide the embarrassment of being caught day dreaming. It wasn’t the kitchen that was on his mind.

“Yeah,” Oikawa said as he cleared his throat, “I do.”

“This weekend, then.”

“T-“

“One color. Lavender like the rest of the apartment.”

Iwaizumi had shut him down but he knew that Oikawa would find a way to do what he wanted, he was sure of that. There was no stopping Oikawa when he put his mind to something. Unless it involved math.

“Fine, the kitchen will be purple like the rest.”

Of course, Oikawa didn’t mention that it’d only be purple when he was done. He smiled to himself, unaware that Iwaizumi was aware. He had known Oikawa far too long not to know what he was thinking. How could he be Oikawa’s best friend if he wasn’t aware of the things he loved, the things he hated, and the things he wanted?

He excused himself from the table and went off to the restroom. Walking down the hall, he looked at all the art he’d given Iwaizumi over the years. Not a single one was lost, left behind, or destroyed—they were all hanging on Iwaizumi’s wall. When the pieces that he made weren’t good enough to be sold, his best friend would ask for them.

In the bathroom, it was more of the same. Some of his work on the walls, but it was more tastefully selected for the bathroom. It wasn’t tacky or out of place. Iwaizumi was a simple man and the only thing hanging on any wall in his apartment was Oikawa’s art. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Iwaizumi’s t-shirt hanging over the towel rack.

Oikawa mentally tried to resist the chance, but here he was alone in the bathroom with Iwaizumi’s shirt. The soft black cloth was right side out, as though it’s owner planned on using it again soon. Delicately, he lifted the fabric to his face and inhaled deeply. The smell of Iwaizumi’s modest cologne and a slight hint of aftershave graced his nose. He thought to himself how shameful it is to be doing what he’s doing; but at the same time, he was doubtful he’d get another chance to indulge himself. 

He placed the shirt back where he found it and washed his face. It was red—heated. He needed to leave for his own good. Oikawa couldn’t make any promises as to what he may or may not do. After all, he’s never been one to deny himself something he wants. If he wants it, he finds a way to get it. But this was a whole other beast he was dealing with. The unknown scared him just as much as it excited him. 

“I’ll see you this weekend, Iwa-chan,” he proclaimed cheerfully as he grabbed his things and left before Iwaizumi could get a word in edgewise.

The focused man was no longer quite so focused as he sat back in his chair, stretching and rubbing sore muscle. He was bemused wondering what had Oikawa so wound up, but decided not to ask. It was pointless prying. He knew Oikawa always comes around to confide in him, so the best thing he can do is wait.


	2. Abscond!!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pls don't mind my meme-y use of the word abscond, I know what it means and I know I didn't use it in the right context but just be a doll and ignore that
> 
> if you never got into Homestuck at some point in your miserable tween years, then I'm sorry ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯

Oikawa wasn’t sure where Iwaizumi had wandered off after he helped him move all the appliances in the kitchen. He was probably studying or sleeping so Oikawa tried to be as quiet as possible, but failed in his endeavors twice—he has a knack for knocking over his paint water and stepping on his mixing palette, which resulted in the utterance of several obscenities.

After his latest slew, Oikawa continued on as though nothing had ever happened, unaware that Iwaizumi was standing behind him now.

“You know for an artist, you’re ridiculously clumsy.”

“Iwa-chan,” he jumped, “you scared me!”

“And so god damn loud,” Iwaizumi said as he rubbed his right ear.

“Well, don’t sneak up on me then.”

Iwaizumi didn’t respond and instead observed the mural-in-process on his kitchen wall. Oikawa, true to his nature, did exactly what he was told not to do. 

“I knew you’d never paint the damn thing purple.”

“I was going to paint over it when I was done, don’t worry. It’s a waste if I don’t use such a good canvas first. Besides, I’m almost done.”

Sometimes, it’s hard for Oikawa to tell exactly what Iwaizumi is thinking. Now is one of those times. The apartment owner stood there and watched as Oikawa continued to paint on his kitchen wall. It unnerved the artist just a little, but within a few minutes, he got so caught up in his own rhythm that he forgot Iwaizumi was there. So, when he slipped on the tarp and fell backwards, it was with panic that he landed in Iwaizumi’s arms.

“Dumbass, be more careful.”

Oikawa gulped, swallowing any words he might use to respond to Iwaizumi. He half expected his friend to drop him, but instead he continued to hold him, much to Oikawa’s misfortune. With every second he spent surrounded by Iwaizumi’s scent and Iwaizumi’s heat and everything Iwaizumi, Oikawa’s cheeks grew redder and his awareness of Iwaizumi’s touch grew bigger. 

The artist scrambled from the man’s arms and turned his back to him. Still at a loss for words, he silently continued to paint. Iwaizumi, ever the observant man, noted the deep red adorning the skin on Oikawa’s ears and neck. 

With one last stroke of his brush, Oikawa cautiously stepped back to look over his work. It was a magnificent display of flowers surrounding two nesting blue birds. The flowers were intricately arranged and inspired tranquility. The wall beneath was still a pastel yellow, though, and Oikawa sighed as he picked up the paint roller coated in lavender paint.

“Don’t,” Iwaizumi said as he put his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder, “leave it.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s too beautiful to just paint over.”

Oikawa felt his heart stop in the moment, savoring the feeling of his art simultaneously being praised and appreciated. Iwaizumi was his first and biggest fan. 

“Thank you, Iwa-chan,” he said as he wiped a forming tear away before it could fall.

Iwaizumi looked over at him and raised his thumb to Oikawa’s face, dumbfounding the latter.

“You just smeared paint on your face, stupid.”

The artist looked to his hands to find the paint, or tried to at least, because Iwaizumi didn’t move his hand away from Oikawa’s face. It stayed there, holding his cheek, thumb moving ever so slightly. If Oikawa wasn’t fully aware of Iwaizumi before, then he definitely is now. He thought he saw Iwaizumi’s eyes briefly drop to Oikawa’s lips, though he couldn’t be sure. 

His heart was thrumming against his ribcage, the sound of their synchronized breathing drowning out the world around him. Were they getting closer? Or had the distance been maintained the entire time they stood in locked eye contact? How long have they been standing like this anyway? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

Oikawa was sure the look on his face was an embarrassing one, and before he could work up the courage to cover his ass, the doorbell rang. Iwaizumi was pulled back to reality, and left a breathless Oikawa standing alone in the kitchen.

From the very front of the apartment, Iwaizumi called out the arrival of their takeout. As if their little moment never happened, he used his current school work to strike up a conversation, in usual Iwaizumi fashion. The artist took this as a chance to distract himself from the growing list of questions in his brain. This is something he could deal with when he isn’t around Iwaizumi.

By the time they finished their food, the sun had set and the city came alive in the night time. Iwaizumi returned to his studies soon thereafter, leaving Oikawa to his own devices. Without a physical stimulus to keep him awake, the artist dozed off with some UFO documentary playing in the living room. 

\--------------------------- 

Disoriented was an understatement when it came to describing Oikawa’s most immediate feeling upon waking up. He never remembered Iwaizumi’s couch to be this comfortable. And he never remembered Iwaizumi’s couch to have sheets and a memory foam pillow either.

The now alert man sat straight up in the bed, adrenaline pulling him from his grogginess. He assessed his surroundings and accurately identified the space as Iwaizumi’s bedroom; and he was, indeed, in Iwaizumi’s queen bed. With gratitude, he found himself still dressed in the same sweats and t-shirt he fell asleep in.

Stark realization of his situation both eased his worries and served to light a fire under him. He quickly removed himself from the bed and all but ran out the door. Before he could bolt from the apartment, he needed to locate his phone, but stopped briefly when he instead found Iwaizumi sleeping on the couch. 

It was endearing, that Iwaizumi had given up his bed so that Oikawa could sleep there; though, he has no idea what kind of effect it had on the artist. There were more and more moments of interest accruing that keep Oikawa from functioning like a normal human being around Iwaizumi. He could chalk up his best friend lending him his bed to selflessness but what the hell was that in the kitchen yesterday?

The more he thinks about it, the more he convinces himself that Iwaizumi looked at his lips. What he was supposed to do with this information, he was entirely unsure of, but all Oikawa knew was that he needed to abscond. With a phone in his hand, and uncertain as to when he had picked it up, Oikawa hastily escaped, nearly running back to his dorm room with a whole lot of pressing questions to address.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen some AO3 writers announce their fic updates on twitter-- would anyone be interested in receiving said updates and other info via twitter???
> 
> let me know!!!!


	3. The Long Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa grabs the wrong phone. He and Iwaizumi meet for lunch. Oikawa despairs over the reality of his situation.
> 
>  
> 
> ***im on anitwt, follow me for updates on fics, commentary that nobody asked for, and general nonsense  
> \--->@itayashougo

Oikawa had barely made it back to his dorm room when the phone in his clenched hand rung, startling him out of deep, half-panicked thought. His brows furrowed deeper, still, upon reading the caller ID: Assikawa.

“Who is this? And why does Iwa-chan call you by my nickname?”

A heavy sigh greeted him, followed by some low mumbling.

“ _Oikawa, you dumbass. You took my phone instead of yours._ ”

“Ohhhh, I thought you--” he chuckled, “never mind.”

As he made small talk with Iwaizumi, he thought about the silly misunderstanding and the thought of it amused him, just a little. There’s no way that there could be another Oikawa by Iwaizumi’s side, they are the best of friends after a—

“Oh shit,” Oikawa interjected without warning.

Iwaizumi has his phone. His phone is in Iwaizumi’s hand. Iwaizumi is calling him from his phone. He’s accessed his phone. Iwaizumi can see everything in his phone.

With realization finally dawning on him, Oikawa was pushed back into full panic mode. There were an indescribable number of candid photos of Iwaizumi on his phone, enough that he could never pass it off as a joke—Iwaizumi sleeping, Iwaizumi studying, Iwaizumi doing just about every mundane task he could imagine. They’re all there, and with one click, Iwaizumi could easily connect the dots. He needed to get his phone back, and he needed to do it now.

“ _Oi, shittykawa, can you hear me?_ ”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey so my classes were cancelled today, I’m gonna shower and then we’re gonna go for lunch, okay?”

“ _Uh yeah, okay,_ ” Iwaizumi confirmed.

Oikawa sped through the hastiest shower of his life and dressed himself haphazardly. Was he clean? Probably not. But he needed the shower after running across campus. Is his hair styled correctly? Again, probably not. None of that mattered in the face of the problem at hand: his secret could be exposed.

As they were now, Iwaizumi and Oikawa walked parallel to a line as white as day-- a threshold-- one that signifies where their relationship would change. After all these years, Oikawa has worked himself so deeply into Iwaizumi’s life that, as friends, they were the closest they were ever going to be. And in the past few months, Oikawa has realized just how close the threshold is. It’s right there. All he has to do is take that last step.

But he won’t.

He won’t do anything to jeopardize what they have now. It simply mattered too much to him, and to selfishly wish for more would only strain Iwaizumi. He had to tread carefully and make sure to stay on the path, never going astray. Oikawa was never meant to walk any other path.

His ringing cell phone cut through his self-reflection with perfect timing. Oikawa managed to avoid running into a pole, stepping around it at the last moment. He turned the corner and walked through the alley to get to a local dive. Inside, Iwaizumi was undoubtedly waiting for him at their usual spot. 

The hostess waved to him and blushed when he gave his signature wink. If he paid any attention to Iwaizumi from the moment he walked in, he would have observed a deep frown on his friend’s face. 

“Do you like someone?” Iwaizumi asked when Oikawa approached their table.

Under normal circumstances, Oikawa would have laughed it off and brushed it under the carpet. But alas, these were not normal circumstances. Instead, the question administered pain equivalent to falling off a building and landing right on your back. It expelled the air in his chest, and numbed him to the tips of his fingers. His tongue tingled with the lies he was about to spew.

“Uh no,” he coughed to clear his throat, “um, I don’t.”

“Then ask her out already, dude. You flirt with her every time you walk through the door. Get a room already.”

The false alarm expelled the numbness that took over Oikawa’s body and he visibly relaxed. If this was how stressful life was going to be from now on, he was certainly not mentally equipped to handle it just yet.

“it’s not like that, Iwa-chan. You just don’t understand the inner workings of being a lady’s man. No wonder you’re still single.”

Oikawa joked about it and he could joke all day long, if he had to. The goal was to remain unchanged and to not raise suspicion. He could do that, right?

“Fuck off, Oikawa,” he grumbled, “anyway, here’s your phone. Next time, make sure you grab the right one.”

And so, their normal routine resumed and Oikawa dutifully played his role as best friend. He maintained the perfect façade while he was with Iwaizumi. Lord knows he’d have more than enough time to himself that night to actually process the events of the day, so he focused himself on this task.

Lunch went about as smooth as one could imagine. When Iwaizumi left for class, bittersweet relief washed over Oikawa in waves. Pretending to only be a friend to someone you love is taxing and though Oikawa had survived many tough obstacles, he could foresee this one being the end of him. It kind of disappointed him, too—knowing that for the rest of his life, he’ll never be more than Iwaizumi’s best friend.

One day, Iwaizumi will get a girlfriend and he’ll look at her with stars in his eyes. She’ll be the one he pulls close when they’re alone; she’ll be the one to receive his affection through long nights; she’ll be the one that he calls first with good news. One day, he’ll have to hand off Iwaizumi at his wedding, knowing that he’ll definitely be out of his reach forever now. He’ll be an uncle to their children, a friend to their family, and best friend to the one man he can ever imagine loving.

The jealousy of an imaginary unknown woman burned hot in the pit of his stomach. It was a vile thing, leaving chaos in its wake. It made him want to throw up, scream his lungs out, and cry until his skin shrivels up and his bones are returned to the earth, all at the same time. And this feeling scared him. When had he become so ugly? Iwaizumi was not his. Though acknowledging the fact hurt, it was still the truth. He had no right to feel so hateful. 

In his silent dorm room, Oikawa wandered about. There was no meaning nor was there any destination—he walked just to walk. He circled the room until his feet became sore and the orange sky faded to black. By god, he was so tired. He’d pushed himself so far into a corner with all of his overthinking that he was too overwhelmed to cry. He was as numb as he was at lunch, earlier in the day. 

Thoughts raced in his head at the speed of light. Hopes and dreams mingled with the despair of reality, like honey in molasses. Together, they weighed so much and the mass of it all had all but bored a hole through his head and down into his soul. 

Oikawa stayed awake through the night with nothing but his daydreams to keep him company.


End file.
